


Knife Play

by cata-kinks (catastrophage)



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Blood Play, Canon Disabled Character, Edge Play, F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Knife Play, Mostly Canon Compliant, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 20:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catastrophage/pseuds/cata-kinks
Summary: Kinktober Day 03 -Knife Play & Edge Play. Ivar has a request and Freydis makes him feel.





	Knife Play

**Knife Play**

"When you told me you would carry my son..."

Freydis looked up from the embroidery she was doing. "Yes?"  
She had flushed cheeks, a shine to her eyes, a silly smile. Her drinking went out of control. It worried Ivar, but he would not attempt to change her. If anything, it would make the conversation easier. And wasn't she beautiful, looking like this?

"You took my knife."  
Ivar walked up to her and dropped down on the bed next to her. She still smiled and nodded.  
"You cut my skin. And then you licked the wound, so the child you carry would be of my blood."  
He wasn't sure why he felt all fidgety and nervous. Freydis was his wife, she had never judged him.

"Yes. And now I carry your son, and he is of your blood."  
She briefly looked down at her embroidery and giggled.  
Ivar had to gather some courage. He reached for the jug of mead and emptied it. Then -   
"Do it again. Take my knife and do it again."

Freydis tilted her head, suppressing another chuckle. It had been two months since she stopped bleeding. She was likely pregnant, what more would he want? But she didn't question him. Ivar was her king. He was a god, that was what she told him. So instead of questioning his motives, she simply asked - "Now?"  
He swallowed and nodded.

She stood up, turning her back to him. In slow motions she reached up to open the ties of her dress, then down to remove her belt. Her dress slid down her body, revealing first her shoulders, then her back, and finally her well shaped ass to Ivar. "Remove your shirt," she told him, taking on a demanding tone. On a second thought she added - "And your pants."

Ivar hesitated. He had always made sure to cover up before she entered the bedroom. As if reading his thoughts, she stated - "I won't turn around until you're under the blanket."  
A few moments later, she carefully turned and showed him her wonderful breasts. Ivar thought they looked a little fuller than the last time he had seen them.  
"Do it, Freydis," he almost begged her. But she took her time walking up to him. She lingered over the knife she picked up from his garments. "Close your eyes," she commanded.

He could feel her nearby, but he obeyed and kept his eyes closed. "Turn around, on your belly."  
Ivar swallowed, not sure what to expect, but he did that as well. Then he could feel her weight on his ass, how she was straddling him. The ends of her long hair reached down to his back and tickled him slightly. "I will mark you tonight," she explained, her voice a little softer, "with the marks of a warrior. For all the battles you have fought and won."  
"Yes," he whispered. "Do it."

Ivar's muscles tensed when he felt the blade touch the skin between his shoulders. He was not used to this. But with the cut came relief. It hurt, but it was manageable. The cut itself felt cold, stinging like a winter breeze on naked skin. Right after came heat, and the tickle of a drop of blood running down his spine.  
It was stopped by a pair of soft lips kissing it away. He could feel Freydis tongue, hotter than his skin, licking up to the wound.   
Ivar moaned.

The knife cut his skin again, this time just under a shoulder blade and he was not prepared. Ivar squirmed a little and sighed, but Freydis sat strongly on his hips. "Don't move," she told him softly. "Or I will cut too deeply."

She put the knife away, unseen to him, and bowed down to kiss his wounds. She had tasted his blood before and she liked it. And even more than the taste she enjoyed Ivar's moans below her. Maybe this was the only way he could... feel lust.  
On a second thought, she tried to enhance it further. Slowly, she started to push her hips against his, to create a little friction, even if the blanket parted them and he was facing the mattress. His moans grew louder.

"Please let me try something," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. Not even waiting for his answer, she slid one hand under the blanket and started kneading his ass cheek. Ivar whimpered and tensed, and then he pushed his hips up against her.  
Freydis smiled. She leaned in to whisper into his ear. "This is good. You're good Ivar. You are so strong... so much stronger than you think."

In one elegant movement she left her position and sat on the mattress next to him. "Please turn back around. I want to see your face."  
Ivar obeyed, he didn't even hesitate. What she did was good, it made him feel in places he'd never felt before. The cuts burned when his back touched the mattress, but he didn't mind it, he rather even enjoyed the pain. He watched her straddle him again, and pick up the knife. She placed it flat against his chest, leaned in and kissed him. Ivar reached up to cup her face with both hands. Between them he could feel the cold steel, but it didn't hurt him. "I love you, Freydis," he whispered as they broke apart.

He didn't notice how she pushed the blanket down with her hips, little by little with each of her movements. Just when the hemline of the blanket reached delicate territory, she turned the knife and pulled it over his chest, cutting only the first layer of his skin. Ivar hissed from the pain, but he didn't push her away, and she made sure to quickly kiss the red lines, to lick away the blood before it even left the wound. Again, Ivar whimpered, and Freydis smiled against his skin, unseen to him, because she could feel something move between them... down there.

"Give me your hand," she told him, not giving the slightest hint to what was happening. She didn't want him to focus on it, she knew how vulnerable he was. She knew how furious he would be should the tension fade, should he soften.  
She took his hand in hers, and just like in the other night, she cut his palm and licked it clean. Again he hissed, but those hisses turned into breathy moans quickly.

Carefully, as not to cut too deeply, she also pulled the blade along his fingertips. Then she took them in her mouth, one by one, and finally, all three she had cut. En passant she moved her hips up, and slowly, carefully back down. Her knife hand put the blade away and reached down to touch herself briefly, to part her labias, so he could slide in smoothly.  
Only then Ivar noticed it. He gasped, but Freydis already had forced her attention back to his fingers, and sucked at the fresh cuts, sending little pulses of pain through his arm. Who knew he would enjoy the pain so much...?

"Freydis I-"  
She quickly moved a hand over his mouth. "I know," she affirmed him. "You are good. You are wonderful. A true god."

Ivar had no experience, so she moved herself on top of him, creating a little friction, but never too much to control. She didn't want to hurt him, should he lose his erection. Ivar closed his eyes and moaned.  
"Look at me," Freydis begged. "Ivar, look at my body." She wanted to keep his mind busy, so he couldn't be stopped by worries. With one hand she touched the bleeding wound on his chest and dyed her fingers red, to draw lines of blood across her breasts. When Ivar opened his eyes and saw her covered in his own blood, she could feel him get even harder.

Then she played with her nipple, and he couldn't hold back anymore. With a groan he sat up and reached for her breast, until his mouth found her nipple to suck at. His cock throbbed nicely inside of her, and Freydis started moaning, and moving against him stronger.

He didn't last long. With a gasp against her breast, silencing himself with her nipple between his teeth, he spilled into her. Who would have thought...  
She stayed in position for a moment, caressing his head, stroking his hair, secretly regretting she didn't try this two, three months earlier.


End file.
